


Carthage

by schemingreader



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-07
Updated: 2010-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 02:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schemingreader/pseuds/schemingreader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request: Post-HBP, post-war, Severus exonerated but in hiding. Severus finds Remus within an inch from death and takes him in reluctantly (at first). Remus is blind. Trials and tribulations they go through that leads to a relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carthage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sidesinger](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sidesinger).



> Imagine a Carthage sewn with salt, and all the sowers gone, and the seeds lain however long in the earth, till there rose finally in vegetable profusion leaves and trees of rime and brine. What flowering would there be in such a garden? Light would force each salt calyx to open in prisms, and to fruit heavily with bright globes of water—peaches and grapes are little more than that, and where the world was salt there would be greater need for slaking. For need can blossom into the compensation it requires. To crave and to have are as alike as a thing and its shadow. For when does a berry break upon the tongue as sweetly as when one longs to taste it, and when do our senses know any thing so utterly as when we lack it? And here again is a foreshadowing—the world will be made whole.
> 
> **Marilynne Robinson, _Housekeeping_**

There was one thing that Severus could say reliably, and that was that he didn't want company. He was lonely, yes, but at forty-six he knew better than to try to ameliorate it. Looking for friends had always led him to terrible mistakes. When the cure was worse than the disease, you had to learn to shape your life in the mold of the disease. He had always been sick of being alone, and he recognized that it was chronic, not acute.

He was as trapped in a fate of his own making; trapped as much as anyone, even though he was master of a hundred varieties of magic.

With magic, he could reform space and time according to his will, could undo gravity and material solidity. What magic could not do was to reverse the actions that had formed him. Even magic couldn't change his essential nature, distorted and malformed as it had been by his upbringing and his own bad decisions.

Even Dumbledore hadn't believed him redeemable. He had asked Severus to perform the unforgivable curse in order to save an innocent boy from splitting his soul. Malfoy's son was redeemable, Potter's son was redeemable, but Severus himself was already damaged. When he protested, "What makes you think I'll go through with it," it was his last rebellion against duty. It was his last self-indulgence, to protest to the only person who would listen, that he was human, that he was salvageable. But he wasn't. Where there was a dirty job to do, he would do it, because it made no difference to the state of his soul.

Once he had been ruined, he was ruined for good and all, and nothing could ever make him right again.

Now he had been acquitted, but there was no repentance and no absolution. There was only the daily remembering and inward cringing, remembering and inward cringing, repeated indefinitely like some horrible torture. It wasn't even big things, like joining the Death Eaters, or killing Dumbledore, or all the times he'd seen someone die. It wasn't the moment he heard that Lily Evans had thrown herself in front of a Killing Curse to save her baby. No, Severus remembered every stupid vindictive thing he'd ever done, especially in his first or second year at Hogwarts. He remembered petty embarrassments he'd endured and forced others to endure—hexes, and cruel remarks, and cutting looks of contempt.

So he soldiered on, hating his body for its insistent vitality and its obnoxious desires. Every day he needed to feed himself and wash and dress. Every day his beard grew and he shaved it. Every day he entertained the fantasy of cutting his throat with the razor. But that would be overly dramatic, and put him in mind of his own billowing robes and theatrical gestures, as though life had been a drama and he had been the star -- which made him cringe, remember and cringe again..

No one would come to find his body, if he did die. No dairies delivered the milk any longer, and he rarely received a letter carried by a human or an owl. He took a walk into town every day, sometimes exploring the woods and looking for various herbs and ingredients. He was as regular as clockwork, not that any of these Muggles would ever notice him. They never noticed anything.

A man could lie passed out in the road before them, bruised and bleeding, and they would never see him.

Severus nearly missed the man, himself, as he flickered in and out of sight. He was clearly a wizard: perhaps he had put a Disillusionment charm on himself. As he drifted in and out of consciousness, the charm's power ebbed and flowed. Finally the man passed out, and became fully visible, at least to Severus.

He stooped and pulled his wand from his trouser pocket to cast "Finite!" He knew it was a risk. The fellow might be held together by the very hexes that had injured him, but he had to see what he was doing.

He knelt on the tarmac. The whole area was deserted, a flat and desolated place. The man was badly hurt, bloody, and Severus had to turn him to make sure he had an open airway without jostling his spinal column. He used a spell, but held the man's bloody shoulders in the palms of his hands to steady him.

He gasped when he saw the scraped up but still familiar face. It was Remus Lupin.

* * *

 

He couldn't leave Lupin in the road. He couldn't take him to St. Mungo's either; as a lycanthrope, he could face euthanasia rather than medical care in the mainstream wizarding world. He couldn't contact any of his old friends from the Order, because… he couldn't do that. He supposed he had to do the right thing. However reluctant he was, he had to bring the man home with him.

Of all of duty's dangerous paths, this one seemed the most foolhardy. Just because Lupin was weak and unconscious didn't mean the wolf would be when he transformed. Severus knew that the moon would be full on Christmas Eve this year. He didn't know what would happen to the wolf because of the man's injuries. He had to brew Wolfsbane, and quickly, and he had to do it while tending this poor bastard's wounds. He set up a bed in the living room and the potion in the kitchen, so that he could monitor Lupin while tending the potion and the potion while tending Lupin.

Lupin didn't come to for more than a day. He had lost a lot of blood. Severus administered blood replenishment potion, Skele-gro, and several analgesics. He didn't know anything about werewolves and pain, but he knew that broken bones hurt.

No one could call him compassionate. At least, no one ever had. Seeing his old schoolmate's injuries disturbed him, though. Lupin's face had always looked so placid and youthful in spite of the smile lines around his eyes and prematurely graying hair. Now his face was contorted with pain, when it wasn't completely slack with unconsciousness. At least he had healed the friction burns on Lupin's skin; it looked like someone had dragged him by his feet with his cheek scraping the surface of the road.

Severus had to do something. He had never liked Lupin. More accurately, he had never forgiven him. Severus never forgave; it was one of the reasons he was sure no one would forgive him. Lupin needed care and no one else would or could give it to him. Severus had to do it.

"It's hell, being English," he muttered to himself. Lupin would appreciate that; he had to remember it when he came to. Hell, being English—sometimes he came up with something good.

He scowled. He was not going to recite everything he ever thought to himself to Lupin. They weren't _friends_. It wasn't as though doing this was going to make them friends. Anyway, that was pathetic. A lonely old duffer just waiting for someone to hear his one joke—he wasn't going to be like that.

Lupin stirred and moaned, and Severus put a hand on his forehead to check for fever, and perhaps to smooth his hair. He withdrew his hand quickly. Smooth his hair! Pathetic. He was pathetic; he clearly just wanted to touch another person. Wasn't it enough that he was providing all sorts of undignified care; did he have to pretend that Lupin would have liked to be touched by him?

Though it did seem to soothe Lupin in his unconscious state. He gave himself up to the pleasure of stroking the other man's forehead and his thick, graying hair. Lupin's expression smoothed out as well.

Still hating himself for it a little, Severus massaged the other man's scalp in long gentle strokes. Slowly he relaxed, slowly he found himself humming, until he himself had drifted off to sleep, leaning against the chair.

* * *

 

Severus woke suddenly, remembering. He checked his watch. He got up and saw to the potion. Then he returned to his chair.

Lupin had opened his eyes, but was squinting against the light.

He cleared his throat. "Lupin. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Sn—Severus?" Lupin rasped. "I didn't—could I have a glass of water please? Why is it so dark in here?"

Severus Summoned the water and supported Lupin to sit up. He brought the lights up in the room.

Lupin drank and smiled. "Thank you." He sagged a little against Severus. "I'm sorry, I know you don't like to be touched. You have been taking care of me while I was unconscious. I'm very grateful."

"Nonsense," Severus said in his normal voice, though inwardly he was choking. _Don't like to be touched! Is that what people think? _

"Is it dark in here?" Lupin said. "I think there is something wrong with my eyes. Everything is very dim and blurred."

Severus suddenly felt cold.

"We'll have to check for eye injury," he said briskly. "I'm sorry that I don't have all the facilities that Madame Pomfrey did."

"Not to say St. Mungo's," Lupin said softly, "Thanks for not sending me there. I have heard that they believe in mercy killings for werewolves with bad injuries."

"No, I couldn't take that chance. It was my duty to take care of you myself."

Lupin smiled wryly. "Hell being English, isn't it?"

Severus started to laugh. He couldn't help it.

Lupin looked almost happy enough to cry for a moment. "You laughed at my joke," he murmured. Severus helped him to lean back against the headboard and shoved some pillows behind him.

"I have to go check your Wolfsbane," Severus explained. He all but ran from the room.

* * *

 

In the kitchen, he held his head. What would he be able to do if Lupin had an eye injury? He could use magic instead of surgery to correct a detached retina, but what if the problem was magical? What if there were other problems from head trauma?

What would the wolf do? Would he also be blinded? Would he panic?

Lupin had looked so pleased when Severus laughed at his joke. _We made the same joke!_

Severus needed a cup of tea. He was having too many feelings all at once.

* * *

 

Back in the living room, he saw that Lupin was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"How can you be well enough to do that without falling down?" Severus blurted. "You've been unconscious for more than twenty-four hours."

Lupin said, "You know, lycanthropes have to heal relatively quickly. The fact that I was ill for so long means that I was probably badly injured." His voice was even, as though he was working out a logical problem.

Severus nodded.

"You probably nodded in that way that you do," Lupin said, "But I can't see all the way across the room."

"In what way that I do?"

Lupin shrugged. "I can't describe it. Your characteristic nod, you know—it's like-- but—could you help me find the loo? I'm well enough to go by myself, I just can't see."

He stood up, staggered, and nearly fell over. Severus was at his side and supporting him so quickly that he didn't even have time to think about what he was doing.

"You really aren't ready to be out of bed," Severus admonished him. He tried to keep a note of triumph out of his voice.

"Right," Lupin gasped. His face was a shade of pale green. "Never been like this before." Severus walked him slowly across the floor to the loo. He sat Lupin on the toilet and put his hand on the sink to steady him.

"Can you get your trousers down?" he asked in a neutral, businesslike way.

"Think so," Lupin said, shamefaced.

Severus didn't close the door all the way. He waited outside until he heard Lupin washing his hands.

"All right?" Severus said. "I think you should probably have a bit of a lie-down, again." He tried to keep his voice light as he helped the other down to the bed, and picked up his feet for him.

"Severus, I'm sorry," Lupin said. He sounded close to tears. "I'm used to feeling ill, but I've really never been like this."

"You still haven't told me what happened. I know it wasn't the full moon, Lupin. Someone beat you and left you for dead. I'm also worried about your eyes, that you might have a detached retina. Did you see flashes of light?"

Lupin turned his face away. He took a jagged breath.

"I need a cup of tea," Severus announced. "You could use one, too."

He rose and dusted his hands on his thighs, and went into the kitchen. He filled the kettle at the sink, but then tapped it with his wand to boil the water. He warmed the pot, swishing the water around in it, and then spilling it into the sink. The steam rose and fogged the windowpane. It was raining on the back garden.

He found some China Oolong tea in the cupboard and measured out three spoons of it into the pot, and then added the water. He'd often thought, watching his grandmother Snape do this, that "two spoons, and one for the pot" was a sort of Muggle incantation.

Usually he drank tea from teabags, but there was company. _Idiot_, he called himself, _idiot_\--but serving tea to guests was bred into him. He made toast, buttered it and put a jar of marmalade on the tray next to the plate and the teapot.

When he brought it all into the living room, Lupin was sitting up.

"Do you take sugar and milk?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," Lupin said. His voice was husky. "You are very kind."

Severus froze.

"Was that—I didn't mean—"

They allowed the awkward moment to pass.

"You asked how I got these injuries," Lupin began. "I think I must have blocked it out. I was visiting the Weasleys in Ottery St. Catchpole, and—I think some people in town suspected that I was a werewolf. They set upon me with sticks."

"You didn't defend yourself? Even the Muggle Protection Act specifies that you can use magic to defend yourself in case of attack."

"It wasn't only Muggles. I am—I'm ashamed that I didn't react quickly enough and—I was disarmed."

"Lupin! You've taught others how to deflect ambush, how could--"

"How could they get the jump on me? It was different during the war, Severus, I expected to confront an ambush when we were at war. I was just walking in the village. I was hit from behind and cursed from behind at the same time."

"Cowards," Severus muttered into his cup.

"I think…" Lupin said reluctantly, "I think some of them were my former students."

He put down the cup and covered his face.

Severus moved to squat next to the bed, and grasped his other hand. Lupin, to his surprise, squeezed his fingers. They sat like that for several minutes, Severus' heart continuing to beat as it always did, as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"How did you wind up here?" Severus asked hesitantly.

"I said a spell—even without my wand I managed—"

"So that I would find you?"

"No, it's complicated. It's a spell that sends out a Patronus to find a safe place, and then the Patronus---takes the body to that place. So even if you are unconscious or, you know, dead, it will bring you along. I thought it would take me back to the Weasleys."

"So that was why you flickered in and out. I thought it was a disillusioning spell."

"Yes. I am surprised, I really didn't expect…"

"Magic is fundamentally irrational," Severus said, and waved his wand. The tea things flew into the kitchen and settled themselves in the sink with a soft series of clinks. "You will need to take the Wolfsbane, tonight."

"You think I will have to change here?"

"Lupin."

"I might be better by then. I really don't want you to have to…"

"It's in two days. You are effectively blind. There is magic to heal a detached retina, but I don't know what else might be wrong, and I don't want to try it before the change; it requires a lot of rest. Is there anyone waiting for you at home?"

Lupin looked at the floor. "No. "

"Miss Tonks is out of town?"

"Miss Tonks left me a year and a half ago. Apparently neither of us was as heterosexual as she thought. We're still friends."

Severus waved this admission away as though it didn't interest him. "So you are living alone, you've just sustained an injury to your eyes, you can barely walk, and your plan is what, to take the Floo home and change chained up in the cellar?"

"It's just— I know how you feel about the wolf."

"Do you." Severus didn't inflect it as a question.

Lupin pulled back. "I can't see your face and I don't know how to tell what you are thinking, Severus. Do you really want me to stay here?"

"The only other places that are equipped to deal with you in this state are St. Mungo's, where the staff might cheerfully decide to kill you, and Hogwarts, where if something goes wrong you could harm one of the children. I won't intentionally hurt you and it doesn't really matter if you accidentally bite or kill me. So let us both be reasonable and do the rational thing."

He stalked out of the room, through the kitchen and out the back door into the garden, where he stood in the rain for a few moments. He cringed at himself for stalking about, and then admitted to himself that Lupin was probably right about him being afraid of the wolf.

"Good, well, it's about time I got over it then, isn't it!" He told himself, out loud. _Now I'm really losing my mind from being alone too much. Talking to myself. Go talk to Lupin; he's another person. Or another, well, something._

He walked back in and spelled the rain off himself, and carefully latched the door.

"Severus?"

"Yes," he said.

"All right?"

"Yes."

"Of course it would matter if I accidentally bit or killed you." Lupin's voice was unnaturally calm, a good sign that he was very angry. "How can you—"

"You know what I meant," Snape snarled back. "I meant I'm not a young person with his whole life ahead of him. I meant I'm not anyone's father or brother or husband or lover or friend. That's all I meant. I am not selling my life cheaply. I'm not putting myself at unnecessary risk; you are going to take Wolfsbane. I have analysed the situation and I am, quite simply and objectively, the most expendable person."

Lupin just stared at him. Then he croaked, "Objectively?"

He sat there, looking at Severus for another minute, and then lay himself back down on the bed with his face turned toward the wall. He didn't say another word the rest of the day, except to thank Severus for bringing him Wolfsbane, and helping him to the loo.

* * *

 

Lupin regained his strength substantially over the next day. At breakfast time he sat up to eat on the bed, but by lunch he was sitting at the kitchen table with Severus. He was pleasant company. He didn't talk much, but he was unfailingly polite.

"Unfortunately I can't see to write, Severus," he said hesitantly after lunch. "Do you have such a thing as an automatic quill I might borrow? I need to write to the Weasleys."

Severus' heart sank. He didn't want the Weasleys to find him. He could see them all descending on his little house to visit Lupin. Or worse, just coming to take him away.

On the other hand, if his houseguest had disappeared on a trip to the village, he wouldn't have sat on his arse waiting to hear what had happened. The Weasleys hadn't even owled; if they had, the owl would have reached them by now.

He silently handed Lupin the quill and parchment, and began to leave the room.

"It's all right, I don't mind if you hear what I write to them," Lupin said. "I need to be sure I'm not violating your privacy."

Severus stood awkwardly in the doorway, listening to Lupin dictate.

"Dear Molly and Arthur, please forgive me for leaving your house suddenly on Friday. I know you must be growing tired of these apologies, and wearier still of the way I drift in and out of social gatherings.

I left you a few small gifts under the tree, and I hope you will think of me when you open it. The moon will be at the full on Sunday night, and I wouldn't have been able to be at your lovely party on Monday evening in any case, but thank you for inviting me.

Yours,

Remus"

"So that's why they didn't try to find you," Severus murmured.

"In general I'm not someone people miss," Lupin replied. "I don't do well in large gatherings. Too quiet. Tonks used to complain about my moping in the corner."

"You were quiet in school, too." As soon as he said it, he regretted it.

"Yeah," Lupin mused. "Well, I didn't exactly want to stick out."

"I'm sorry," they both said at the same time.

Then Severus said quickly, "I'll be right back, I just have to get something."

It was a lie. He had to leave the room, was what he had to do. He ran up the stairs to try to think of something he could bring down to justify running away.

Of course he ran away, he reasoned. He was used to being alone. There was nothing wrong with that, but he couldn't exactly leave the fellow to his own devices.

He came down the stairs slowly, thinking.

"It's a lot of time to have to sit idle," Severus said. "I suppose that if you were at home, you would be reading or listening to the wireless or something like that."

"Yes, I do like to read. I sometimes play the guitar, which I suppose I can still do."

"I could read to you," Severus said gruffly. "I have a good sized library."

"I think I'm not as intellectual as you are, Severus," Lupin said, flushing. "I read paperback novels."

"I have novels," Severus protested. "I always get all the Booker Prize nominees every year to read."

Lupin smiled. "That's very systematic of you."

Severus shrugged and swallowed. He hated that kind of teasing; he could never tell what people meant by it. Somehow he always got it wrong.

"What are you reading now?" Lupin asked gently.

"Er, gardening book."

"Really? I didn't know you were a gardener," Lupin said with enthusiasm.

"I wasn't for years, but now I have the space and time for it, and…" He let his voice trail off. "You don't have to humour me, you know."

"What's the book called?"

"It's _Imaginary gardens with real toads in them: a guide to magical gardens in the Muggle world_, by Rose Campion. She's Canadian, but it's quite a useful book."

"It's the sort of thing I like to read, myself. I do like a good novel, but I don't think I could concentrate on one even if I could see. But gardening books in the wintertime are wonderful, you get to think about what will be coming up in a few months, plan to order seeds and start seedlings…"

"I do have a few seedlings under a light in the kitchen," Severus said shyly.

"Really, what are you starting?"

"Just a few medicinal herbs, and you know, kitchen garden plants. I've got some little tomatoes and pea seedlings. You can plant peas outside in the next few months."

"Do you do container gardening? We did quite a lot of it when I lived with the werewolf pack."

"The werewolves do container gardening!"

"The _English_ werewolves, Severus."

Severus laughed. He was surprised by Lupin's facial expression, which was a triumphant grin. Apparently Lupin counted it a great victory when he made Severus laugh.

"I wish I could see your seedlings," Lupin said wistfully. "If you want to read to me, I wouldn't mind hearing the gardening book a bit. If that's all right. I know you might rather read something with a plot, if you have to read out loud, but I like a bit of daydreaming about spring."

"A book about a garden has a plot."

Lupin started, and then laughed.

"I left off at the bit about how to hide magical plants amongst the root vegetables," Severus said.

Lupin looked expectant. He leaned back against the pillows, and Severus sat down on the bed next to him and began to read.

* * *

 

Lupin listened for an hour before he fell asleep again. Severus woke him for supper and to take the Wolfsbane potion and more blood replenishers and painkillers. Lupin was quiet. He needed help getting back to the bed.

"Tomorrow, if I keep getting better, could we go outside for a bit?"

"You don't have to ask me, I'm not keeping you in jail."

"Oh, Severus," Lupin sighed. "I'm too dependent on you not to ask. Look how weak I am. I can't even see properly. It's just…"

"What?"

"Even with the Wolfsbane and the injuries, I still feel restless, you know, right before."

"Ah."

"Also—"

"Also, what?" Snape tried not to snap, after nearly a minute had gone by.

Lupin yawned. "I don't feel lonely with you the way I do with other people. It's not only because you have been so good to me." He yawned again. "That didn't come out right. Don't be sensitive and hold it against me. I like you, never know how to say it so that you'll hear it."

Severus sat for a minute or two, trying to think of what to say, and Lupin fell asleep.

* * *

 

Though he'd had a difficult time falling asleep the night before, Severus woke early the morning before Lupin's monthly transformation. The earliest rays of the sun were crawling through the window and he was lying awake.

He couldn't hold the man responsible for what he said on painkilling potions. Besides, he didn't know what "like" meant, exactly.

_Come on, _ he told himself. _He said "I like you,"—most people would call that clear. No wonder he doesn't know how to convey it so that you'll hear it. You can't understand plain English._

But then he second-guessed himself. Maybe "like" meant "don't hate" or "am grateful to" or "feel sorry for" or "want to have sex with."

Not that he would mind if Lupin wanted to have sex with him, of course. It had been a very long time, and he still found Lupin attractive. Even seeing him exhausted, injured and ill hadn't changed that. Well, if seeing him when he was a terrifying, slavering monstrous beast hadn't affected the attraction, nothing would.

Did he like Lupin, though?

Did he like anyone? No one had ever asked him, "Do you like me, Severus?" No one asks that question of his sharpest knife or his hottest brand.

If there was anyone whom Severus should not trust, it was this person. _Who knows why a werewolf does anything? _ He cringed, remembering the last time he had said that.

_If Lupin is like everyone else, he likes me because I am useful. No one is more useful than the person who saves your life. _

Except perhaps the person who agrees to kill you, the thought stabbed him.

What was the point of having magic when his own thoughts made him unhappy? He worked to clear his mind, counting his breaths until the listening spell he'd placed on Lupin let him know that the other man was awake.

* * *

 

Lupin swung his feet to the floor.

"Would it be all right if I had a bath?" he asked.

"Certainly," Severus said.

"You sound dubious."

"No, I'm sure it will be fine."

"I know you've been using cleaning spells. I'd just like to really bathe because, it's Christmas Eve, you know."

Severus walked him into the bathroom. He filled the tub with a spell. Lupin stripped off his pajamas and folded them, but then had to hand them over.

"I can see the tub, but not that well," he said, banging his shins against it. Severus placed Lupin's hands on the rim of the tub.

"You see why I don't want you to bathe by yourself," he said.

"I know, it's fine," Lupin said. "I haven't got anything you haven't seen before."

A cliché, and untrue; Lupin's body was beautiful. The hair on his chest was graying, and he was a bit too thin, but he still had broad, muscular shoulders. His legs were still like a young man's, with sculpted calves and high buttocks. Severus was glad that Lupin couldn't see him looking.

He was glad that he had healed the broken arm so well. Lupin must have raised it to protect his head.

"How is your arm?" he asked.

"You did a wonderful job; it's like it was never broken." Lupin smiled. "I can't thank you adequately for healing me."

"I can do your eyes, too," Severus said hesitantly, "though you might want to see a Healer who specializes in eyes for that."

"It would mean my staying here, though, and I don't want to impose on you. I know you value your privacy."

He put his hand on the surface of the water, and then ducked his head under to wet it. Then he groped around the edge of the tub for some soap. Rivulets of water ran down his face, into the stubble of his beard. Severus handed him a bar of solid shampoo and a flannel.

"Oh, this is your shampoo, Severus," he said. "It smells of lavender, like your hair does." He turned the bar in his hands until they were lathered, and began to soap his head.

Severus blushed, thinking of Lupin smelling his hair.

"You will need someone to take care of you while you recover," Severus said, trying not to observe Lupin washing his body. "I can do that."

Lupin did not reply for a moment. He rinsed himself, felt for the plug and drained the tub. He stood up, carefully, and Severus handed him a towel.

"I want to give you some time to consider this," he said, finally. "It's a lot for me to ask of you."

"Really, Lupin," Severus said, averting his eyes from the other man as he dried himself, "It's not as though I have anything better to do."

Lupin laughed. Severus hadn't been joking.

* * *

 

Severus gave Remus some of his Muggle clothing to wear, instead of pajamas. The clothing fit him after Severus put a charm on it. They sat at the kitchen table and ate eggs and tea and toast. Outside, he could see that it was a sunny, chill day, the clouds standing out white against the blue of the sky. A light dusting of snow had covered the ground, but it wasn't deep at all. Just enough to add a frosty coating to the mud, he thought, and maybe make things slippery enough for Lupin to fall and re-injure himself.

"I think I'm well enough to go out for a little bit," Lupin said tentatively. "Do you mind coming with me? Perhaps you have some project in mind; I don't want to assume. I could always just sit in the garden."

"I would like to take a walk," Severus said quietly. Neither of them had anywhere to be on Christmas Eve; it was unnecessary to say so. Lupin, because he was doomed to change on the full moon, no matter what night it was, and Severus, because he was unloved.

They made their way slowly, Lupin's gait a bit halting. He wasn't limping, but he still held on to Severus' arm.

"It's beautiful here," he murmured. "It's like Wuthering Heights or something."

Severus snorted. "Very romantic, Lupin."

"We just turned away from town and walked a bit, and it's all desolate and beautiful."

"Desolation isn't beautiful."

Lupin fell silent, but he didn't seem offended.

"I came back here because I own the house," Severus explained. "It's not a beautiful place, to me."

"But you like being alone."

"No." Severus said.

Lupin stopped his slow progress. His eyes were wide.

"No, I never liked it, never," Severus said out loud. "I always wanted to have friends. I never wanted to be the person I am."

"Severus."

It was perhaps the most awkward thing Severus had ever experienced, in a lifetime of horribly awkward moments. Lupin reached out to touch him and grazed his hair and shoulder with his hand. Severus flinched, and Lupin pulled back quickly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know I must repulse you," Lupin babbled. Severus grabbed at him, trying to hold him, and they both staggered and nearly fell.

"You don't—you idiot—Remus, I—" Severus stammered, and then realized that Lupin was nearly fainting from exhaustion. "I have to get you back to the house. This was a bad idea."

They walked back in silence, Severus' arm around Lupin's waist to support him. Lupin was looking at the ground, even though Severus knew he could barely see his feet in front of him.

They reached the door. Severus gripped Lupin's chin. "Why did you come here?"

"I told you, my Patronus…"

"I know how you got here. I mean, why do you trust me? I've held a grudge against you since we were in school. No one knows where you are. Why?"

"I know what you've done, Snape. I know what it cost you. I can't believe that strength like yours isn't profoundly good."

"You're wrong. You're wrong. I have killed and I have been cruel."

Lupin reached for his hands, and he let him find them.

"I am glad to put my life in your hands."

Severus looked at his earnest face.

"All right. All right," Severus said. He unlocked the door with a silent Alohamora! and helped Lupin back to his bed in the living room.

"Please get some rest," he said. "Let's not undo more of your healing than we can avoid."

* * *

 

The day passed quickly after that. Severus read out loud about insectivore and doxyvore magical plants and which ones made a nice unobtrusive herbaceous border, and Lupin snorted with laughter. They ate a good meal at one o'clock, and then tea at four. Severus was never this disciplined about food for himself, but he couldn't imagine how Lupin was going to manage the transformation after so much blood loss.

Right before sundown he gave him the last dose of Wolfsbane.

"You don't have to stay with me for the change," Lupin said nervously. "I trust your Wolfsbane but I don't want you to—it's rather horrible to see, I imagine."

"I've seen the wolf after transformation. I'm not afraid, Lupin. You can't think that all of those boys in Gryffindor House when we were at school could watch you transform and I couldn't bear it. How insulting."

"They were all arrogant and stupid about things. You know that." He looked pained. "They never had a chance to learn better. Besides, they never went near me when they weren't in animagus form."

"I don't care."

"Why are you pushing yourself to do this? I've changed alone for most of my life, except for those few times at school and in the werewolf pack."

"What if the wolf can't see and is frightened?"

"Then it would be better for you not to be here." Lupin subsided into brooding silence. Then he burst out, "I just don't want you to remember why you hate me, all right!"

"Don't be stupid," Severus said, his face flaming. "I've got over all that." As soon as he said it, he realized that it was true. The strength of his relief threatened to swamp him, and he started to count his breaths so that he wouldn't burst into tears. He stood up. No, he wasn't going to leave the room; that would make Lupin think he wasn't going to stay for the change. He paced up and down for a moment.

"I'm sorry that I didn't find a way to get you a guitar," he said politely.

"Yes, I should have found a way to send for mine. I'd like to hear you sing sometime." Lupin smiled. "You have such a fine speaking voice."

"Do you sing?" Severus asked.

"I used to, but my voice isn't what it was."

"My dad used to sing," he confided, feeling awkward again. "Not my mum, so much, except lullabies." _Oh God, now he's going to laugh at me. _

"My dad had a dreadful voice. How I miss hearing it, though. He used to sing when he did the washing up. Dreadfully silly stuff, old musical hall songs. It was so hard for them when I was infected, but they kept their spirits up."

"Stiff upper lip."

"Yes," Lupin grinned. "They didn't whinge. Most people in our generation are more contemplative and in touch with their feelings, but they don't know how to just do their duty, how to be brave like that. Except you, of course."

Severus didn't know whether he should argue with Lupin about grouping him with their parents' generation, but he didn't have a chance. The moon was rising and Lupin was panting, in pain.

"Sorry, Severus, I'm sorry," he gasped. The change was much faster than Severus expected. Fur rippled over him and his body elongated. There was a sickening sound of bones breaking, audible even over Lupin's screaming and wolfish snarling, but it was quick. He curled in the air and then was gone, a wolf on all fours standing in his place. Severus Banished the shreds of his clothes that Lupin had borrowed.

The wolf stood in front of him, its face sad even with its bared teeth and panting tongue. It nuzzled his hand like a dog, and he patted it. Wolves are not dogs. The wolf fur was softer. He sat on the floor and leaned against the armchair, and the wolf put his big head in Severus' lap and was quiet.

"I don't hate you and I'm not afraid of you any longer," Severus said out loud. "So that's something, even though…" he trailed off, realizing that Lupin might remember what he said in spite of his wolfish state. _Even though you are going to leave_, he finished mentally. He shrugged.

Lupin looked up at him with his big, sorrowful animal eyes. He could see, now, even though he couldn't speak.

"Are you in pain, Remus?" he asked gently. The wolf did not respond, not even to shake his beautiful head.

Severus sang a little, then. He didn't know if Lupin would remember it or not, but what the hell. He didn't know many Christmas carols, so he sang "Streets of London," "Sounds of Silence" and, less lugubriously, "Yellow Submarine." He'd learned them all in the seventies in case anyone should ever ask him to sing with them in the pub. They never had.

It was one of those things that Severus had prepared for, just in case. He had been ready when he needed to offer elf-made wine to a pureblooded heiress in hysterics. Now he was ready if he ever had to join a werewolf with a guitar busking for change in the London Underground.

Lupin fell asleep just as he began "Scarborough Fair." He stayed there for a little while, petting the wolf's head and just thinking. When he tried to shift the werewolf so that he could stand and go up to bed, Lupin awoke, slightly panicked.

"You can stay with me, if it makes it easier," he said, yawning. Lupin rose and followed him up the stairs, his claws clicking against the steps. He followed Severus into the loo, not wanting to let him out of his sight. He watched solemnly as Severus brushed and flossed his teeth, and followed him into the bedroom.

Severus stripped down and slid between the sheets. Lupin curled up at the foot of his bed, on top of the blanket.

"Aren't you going to be cold, in the morning, when you change back?" Severus said, bending forward to pet him one last time. Lupin licked his face. "All right."

* * *

 

When Severus got up early the next morning, Lupin was still a wolf. He felt a moment of fear, and then realized that of course, the moon hadn't set. They went downstairs, the wolf following him. He made sausages and fed some to the wolf. He took a bath and the wolf watched him. He got dressed and they sat in his bedroom. Severus read to the wolf about magical enhancements to Muggle plants, like rosebushes.

"I think my mother must have known about this," he commented. The wolf panted and grinned.

The sun rose a little before eight, and then the moon finally set after 9:30. Lupin fell to the floor howling in pain. He didn't try to bite himself or Severus, because of the potion, but there was no escaping that he was in agony.

Severus stroked his head as it became human. Lupin's face and hair were drenched in snot, sweat and tears, and he was sobbing.

"Shhhh, shhhhh," Severus said, covering him with a blanket.

"I didn't want you to see this," Lupin whispered hoarsely.

"My potion works, though," Severus said. "You would probably suffer even more without it. I did you some good, anyway."

Without thinking, he put his arms around Lupin's shaking shoulders, and kissed his head. Then Lupin looked up at him and Severus said "Remus," and kissed his mouth all salty with tears.

* * *

 

It was almost as though they had made love—Lupin nude, and lying exhausted in his arms. His face was peaceful and he breathed deeply, snoring a little. Severus felt absurdly happy to be touching him this way. Then he too, relaxed and slept.

They both woke in the early evening. The sunlight was red through the window. Severus was a little disoriented to find a beautiful man asleep in his bed.

Remus opened his eyes.

"How are your eyes?" Severus asked, pretending that it wasn't strange for them to be in bed together.

"I still see only the outline of your head, and everything is blurred," Remus said, touching the side of Severus' face. Severus shivered and moved to hold him closer still.

"What do you want, Severus?" Remus asked, kissing his face.

Oh. He kissed Remus on the mouth again, their tongues touching.

Remus repeated his question, stroking Severus' shoulders.

"This, I want this," he answered, kissing him again.

They kissed and touched and Severus almost couldn't bear it.

"I am afraid…" Remus said tentatively, "I am falling in love with you, just because of how kind you have been to me."

"Is that a bad reason?" Severus panted.

Remus laughed. Then, as Severus continued his ministrations, he closed his eyes, and moaned.

Severus hadn't forgotten how to do this.

* * *

 

When they finally got out of bed, it was nine in the evening. Severus decided to make an omelette for dinner. He had some herbs, and the last of the wholemeal bread. There was still a little butter, and some cheese. He puttered happily in the kitchen, humming to himself.

Remus sat in a chair, smiling. "You sexy bastard," he said quietly. "Who knew what you were hiding under that grim façade?"

"You must have done."

"Didn't even guess. It seems I just got very lucky."

"When you said…"

Remus looked at him expectantly.

"When you said you liked me," he swallowed, "What did you mean?"

Remus got up and walked over to him, which wasn't easy as he still couldn't really see him. He put a hand on Severus' shoulder.

"That's more important to you than love or trust, isn't it," he said thoughtfully.

_Please don't tease me about this. I can't stand it_ Severus thought desperately.

"I just meant that things are easier when I'm with you," Remus said. "Not that you are an easy person to get to know. Just that…it just feels like home, somehow. Not lonely."

"Ah," Severus said. He stirred the eggs for a moment, unnecessarily. Then he said, "I like you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-reading from [](http://rexluscus.livejournal.com/profile)[**rexluscus**](http://rexluscus.livejournal.com/), [](http://busaikko.livejournal.com/profile)[**busaikko**](http://busaikko.livejournal.com/), and beta with britpick from [](http://sscrewdriver.livejournal.com/profile)[**sscrewdriver**](http://sscrewdriver.livejournal.com/).


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